Another Legend for Another Day
by autobotgirl12328
Summary: I'm not much for anything, but once I get locked on something I'm in for the whole ride, regardless of where it may take me. I'm not into just any conspiracy theories, no, I'm mostly into one right now. One word: Yogscast. Such a simple concept and yet there's something secretive about it. I am determined to find all its threads. [Book 1]
1. Prologue

A/N

Greetings and bienvenue. This is a sister series all about the Yogscast, Minecraftia, mods, and game modes! The world of this series began with the Sky Army Series (currently 5 books) and some secrets and events are connected to those stories. You do not need to be a fan of the Sky Army to enjoy the story (at least I hope so). While the Sky Army series focuses on Skydoesminecraft, his friends, Minecrafia history, lore [Herobrine/Notch], and monsters, this book series will focus on what I said above.

The original concept for this series was lost when my computer died. So, starting from scratch, I went with a different angle! Let's see how this series favors.

Prologue

I'm not much for anything, but once I get locked on something I'm in for the whole ride, regardless of where it may take me. I guess that's why I like conspiracy theories, because they can lead you down the rabbit hole and I enjoy the ride. I'm not into just any conspiracy theories, no, I'm mostly into one right now. One word: Yogscast. Such a simple concept and yet there's something secretive about it. I am determined to find all its threads.

Yogscast has two sides: Public and Secret. Trying to connect the public and secret aspects of them is what fuels a lot of its followers. In the public aspect, they are something of a power house and leading force in science. Secretly, they have ties to various organizations. Some even think they have an army, like the Sky Army. It is much more public than the Sky Army, anyway.

It's like chasing cars. You don't realize you don't know what to do with one if you caught it. Like those hypothetical situations, when you and your friends talk about if one of them were kidnapped what would you do or if someone tried to kill you what would you do? You always think you'll be this big hot shot, kicking and punching but how true is that actually? Same thing with this. I don't know what I would do if I was thrown into the mix. The only way to know if to be put into that situation.

So, I was put into the situation.


	2. Conspiracies Make the World Go Round

Chapter 1: Conspiracies make the world go round

I just moved into town. It was a rather large town but not quite a city yet. The reason for its size was the mega corporation that was founded there. That corporation headquarters was one of the reasons I was here. The other being my mother was nagging me to get a real job. I wanted a fresh start, anyway. I moved into a small apartment building, second floor, third room from the stairs. It wasn't much but it was actually nice. The view looked straight out over the park, with the looming Sips Co. building towering in the distance.

Sips Co, founded by Chris Lovasz, had recently branched to various parts of the world, even having a small outlet on Earth now. The exact purpose of the company can be debated. Whatever it is the company does, it makes quite a bit of money. Having moved to the neighborhood of the main headquarters, I decided for my first day in the new town I would visit the headquarters and take the tour.

The building was easily divided into new and old. The old building, which I guess was the original building, was red brick, slanted roofs, and surrounded by a thick, grey brick wall, topped with barb wire. This part of the complex was locked off. The new building, on the other side of the lot, was slick and new, standing tall at over 50 stories. People in suits were filing in, avoiding the collection of children huddling around their teacher. A few other adults formed a group of their own, guided by a woman in red. I decided it was probably best to join the second group as opposed to the first.

"Everybody come together!" the woman cheered, waving everyone together. "Welcome to Sips Co. Headquarters! We are all glad to have you."

She led us inside, after the school kids went in. The inside of the tower was just as slick and new as the outside. Some, I suppose it would be called, art hung on the wall. A single secretary sat at a large rounded desk near the far wall. The wall she was lined against wasn't the back wall, as two small halls were on either side of her, leading to the elevators. The school group took one hall and we took the other.

The woman continued talking about the history of the complex and Chris Lovasz. The oh-so famous founder was described as a genius and entrepreneur, discovering the secret of big business at an early age. A few individuals chuckled. Obviously, they didn't believe these stories. Eventually the elevator let us out on a floor and woman led us down a long hallway. The hallway was cut in half, separated by a glass wall. Beyond the glass was an assembly line, moving blocks of what could only be dirt. We stopped about halfway.

"This is our main line," the woman expressed. "Sips Co started as a dirt manufacturing company."

"Who manufactures dirt? It's just dirt," someone behind me scoffed.

"This premium dirt," the woman continued, clearly ignoring the snide comment, "which is pulled from deep underground. It contains trace minerals and special ingredients that only the employees at the company know about."

"Yeah right," another person snorted.

The woman was beginning to look annoyed, but she did her best to ignore them. The assembly line looked interesting though, moving around and managing the once clump of dirt into a beautifully symmetrical block of brown with small tuffs sticking out of it. Further down the line, these small tuffs would be trimmed or removed. It was a curious process, even seeing these blocks slide perfectly into their little boxes.

We reentered an elevator, riding up a little further, and then came out again. This floor had a wider layout, full of cubicles and the ominous sound of clicking. The heads of workers peered over the small boxed offices. Not a word was spoken. No one looked up at us as we entered. The woman still instructed us to move quietly as we entered. It felt like we were on a stealth mission. We were ninjas…in a cubicle farm.

"This is the financial office. Well, not just finances. This office works with the consumers to make the company the best it can be," she hummed. "Here, we take orders, pay bills, order products, manage our money, and keep track of our stores worldwide."

"Not just worldwide anymore."

The group perked, watching a man join the group from behind. Out of everyone present, he seemed out of place. Dressed in dirty, jean overalls, the man looked like he just got off work in the fields. His brown hair was sticking to the sweat on his forehead, while his curled moustache seemed almost as out of place as his outfit. The woman seemed flustered to see him, clutching her clipboard tight enough for her knuckles to turn white.

"Sorry for interrupting, Miss Collins," he chuckled. "I was just stopping by."

"Of…of course, sir!" she finally burst.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he grinned. "Paul Sykes. Co-founder."

"Then why isn't your name on the building?" one of the men from earlier spat.

"I ask that question every day of my life," Paul shrugged.

"Why are you dressed like that?" someone murmured.

"Mr. Sykes works on a rather large farm just outside the city. Isn't that right, Mr. Sykes?" the woman jumped in.

"Yeah. I thought I would just stop by and say hi to Sips," he nodded.

Sips was in reference to Chris Lovasz. That would make this man his partner Sjin. These two were rumored to be part of the high ranking Yogscast officials. It is believed that most Yogscast officials work in pairs. I wanted to say something, ask a question. I never thought I would actually talk to one of the two. I fumbled. I regret it and yet somehow, I don't. Somehow, his eyes met mine and grinned.

"Any questions?" he asked.

I opened my mouth to speak but found my mouth had dried up. I hated myself in that moment more than anything. Someone pushed pass me. He was a larger man, dressed in a dark blue shirt and jeans. He nearly knocked me clean off my feet. Instead I fell into someone else: a tall man, maroon jacket, striped shirt, dark pants. I mumbled an apology, quickly stepping back. The large man was charging at Paul.

"I got a few questions! Questions about the Yogscast!" the man spat. I could see the spit land on Paul's face. He didn't flinch.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you mean," he grinned.

"Don't play coy with me! I know the truth," the man argued.

"If you know the truth, way to demand answers?" Paul instructed. "Only a fool claims he knows everything."

By then security had arrived, no doubt called by the tour guide. They wrangled the fool, dragging him out. Paul shrugged, rolling his eyes. The rest of the floor seemed unfazed by what had just occurred. It was like the events happened in our own little world. It almost didn't seem real.

"Are you okay?"

I came out of thought slowly, noticing the group was moving on without me. I shook my head, regaining focus. The man I had bumped into was waiting for me while Paul had grabbed me by the arm. I felt embarrassed beyond belief. I quickly looked the floor, avoiding eye contact. I could hear a soft chuckle.

"Things like this happen all the time," Paul explained. "I'm pretty used to it by now."

"Yogscast," I finally managed to whisper.

"Hmm?" he perked.

"The Yogscast, the organization, are you…Sips Co, I mean…is it…" I couldn't form words. I hated myself. Finally, I just stopped talking.

"The Yogscast has nothing to do with the production or income of Sips Co," he spoke smoothly, almost like it was rehearsed. "I think someone here is willing to help you get back to the group."

I glanced back. The man was still there, avoiding eye contact with the both of us. I nodded gently, leaving his steady hand. I felt numb and entirely pissed off at myself. I stepped right pass the man, storming off in thought. I could hear his footsteps behind me. It looked like the rest of the group had left without us, leaving a rather empty elevator. We stood, in silence, as the doors closed.

"I'm such an idiot," I mumbled to myself.

"How to you like town so far?" the man hummed, fixing his jacket's cuffs.

"It's fine. I haven't really gotten a good look around besides knowing where the stores are and…" it was only midsentence that I realized what was said and how I was responding. "How'd you know that I…"

"Interested in the Yogscast?" the man continued.

"Yes," I whispered. "I'm sorry, I don't think I got your name."

"That's fine," he shrugged. "This is your stop."

The elevator doors opened. The group was not far ahead, being instructed by the tour guide still as if nothing had happened. I looked to the man beside me. He motioned for me to exit first.

"Who are you?" I questioned.

"All in due time, Miss Morgan," he responded, holding the elevator's doors open. "Be seeing you."

I stepped out, turning around the watch the doors close. He winked at me just as the doors shut. All the rage that had originally been pointed at me quickly whirled around to the mystery man in the elevator. My curiosity went up to another notch. A missed opportunity.


	3. Dining In

Chapter 2: Dining In

I was still new to town, knew where the store was but didn't care much to actually go to it. I ordered pizza. It was fifteen minutes. The delivery boy was cute. I wanted to flirt but my head was still wrapped up in the events at Sips Co. and my heart was still beating in my chest as if I was still confronting Paul Sykes in the center of the floor. I still hated myself for it. I paid, tipped and shut the door.

Stuffing my face full of pepperoni covered cheese bread, I returned to my files on the Yogscast. I had several PDFs, plus my own notes. Suspected members, operations, events, involvements, and other associations. No truly proving pictures but a few assortments of images, typically gathered from newspapers or google. I figured, given my failings today, I might as well brush up on what I was searching for. I thought about what Paul had said to the mysterious man: only a fool claims to know everything.

The term Yogscast took up a small portion of the first page. The very word seemed conflicting, primarily in how it was spelled or more so what its followers were called - Yognaut? Yognaught? Yognau(gh)t? - not that I much cared for that part of the investigation. The very word could be gibberish or perhaps an acronym. I threw my hat into the acronym game, trying to match up words with the letters provided. I felt like a kid, making up things.

The next page consisted of suggested origin of the organization. While all began "a long time ago," they all centered around two key figures: Xephos and Honeydew. Those two names, if they are such, are mentioned throughout Yogscast lure. They are believed to be the founders or controllers of the entire thing. There isn't much on them or who they were or are. Theorists tend to argue whether they are still alive or not, whether or not they were simple myth from long ago, based on real people but blown out of proportion. Obviously, no pictures.

The next page went into possible members. This list included Paul and Chris of Sips Co. as well as many others. Everyone either had a clean photo or one cut and photocopied from a newspaper. They looked so ordinary though, smiling for their pictures like back in school. Paul looked exactly like his photo, though his moustache and beard looked shorter. His eyes were bright and wide. His boss, Chris otherwise known as Sips, looked shadowy and almost unapproachable. It looked almost as if he was photocopied wrong, making his skin grey and dull. The two placed side-by-side seemed awkward and out of place.

Others in the book lacked full names, only including their code names.

Livid Coffee (what kind of name is that): Blond, glasses, small tuft of hair coming from his chin. The glimmer in his smile was somewhere between excitement and madness.

Lomadia: beautiful woman, long hair, chilling smile.

Inthelittlewood: picture being of a young man, blond, eyes full of life.

The other entries had no pictures:

NanoSounds: marked as Livid Coffee's assistant in certain occasions.

SoTotally: marked as paired with Inthelittlewood.

Nilesy: simply marked as crafty salesman. There was a picture of an oddly shaped pool beside his name.

Turpster: the only thing really marked next to him as new but that was an entry placed several years ago.

The following page was dedicated to a group within the organization called Hat Films. Random assortment of images cluttered the pictures: a golden hand, random construction sites, some blurry images but mostly doodles. Yes, you can doodle in word documents. I learned how. A slight argument went over recently about the possibility of hybrids within this group. I never cared much for the discussion about hybrids but it was a lengthy one when it came to big organizations like this or the Sky Army. It's an argument best stayed away from.

The next few pages talked about the mysterious figure known only as Rythian. There weren't any photos but several drawings. Each were ominous and dramatic, depicting a man dressed in dark clothing, flapping cape and glowing purple eyes. A bright red blade was drawn as well. The oddest thing in the entire section was the slow emergence of rainbow colors. The dark page slowly slipped into wonderful colors, telling the story of Rythian's fallen angel. Her name was omitted from every record, every mentioning of her on every site was gone. She was the only suspected member of the Yogscast that had no presence on the internet.

As the document dwindled to an end, I was left wondering about the truth of any of this. What if it was all legend, superstition, myth, some story told around a campfire? Something blown way out of proportion? The Sky Army at least had a video to draw back to. Those of us seeking answers on this side of the legend, were picking at straws. I groaned, closing my laptop and pushing it away. My pizza was half gone. I didn't feel any better.

My doorbell rang, forcing me to get up and answer it. I know I could've just laid on the couch and waited for whoever was knocking to leave but I wanted to distract myself. Opening the door, I was pleasantly surprised by the appearance of a young lady, dressed in purple with long black hair. She smiled at me, seeming taken back by the door opening. We both relaxed slightly.

"Hello, you just moved in, right?" she hummed, rocking on her heels.

"Yeah," I nodded. "You the welcome committee?"

"Sort of, I guess. I'm Mary, I live a few apartments down," she commented, motioning further down the hall. "I just wanted to introduce myself, be a friendly neighbor kind of thing."

"Thanks," I shrugged.

"If you need anything just ask," she perked, waving her hand, "smells like you already found the pizza place."

"Yeah, busy day and I wasn't up to go shopping yet."

"That's fine. Happens to us all, right?" she chuckled.

If anything, she seemed nice. On the other hand, I didn't know how to get rid of her politely.

"You have a job already worked out?" she commented, picking up the conversation again. "I work in a little shop, you know. My boss if pretty nice. I bet he could help you out."

"I think I'm fine. I'm pretty good getting around on my own," I awkwardly nodded, looking around.

Luckily at that moment, my phone began ringing. I jumped at the sound, immediately looking behind me and slowly closing the door.

"Sorry, gotta go!" I blurted, shutting the door.

Reaching the phone, I didn't even realize I had plugged in my landline. I answered it nonetheless, flopping onto the couch. The other end was quiet for some time, before another voice came on.

"Miss Morgan, due to the problems during your trip to Sips Co, we would like to personally invite you back for a unique tour with the other members of your group."

It sounded like an automated message aside from my name which was copy and pasted into the recording. I rolled my eyes, fetching another slice. Another trip to Sips Co. couldn't hurt, especially if I was given another chance to talk to Paul. I shrugged, listening to the message. Tomorrow, 9am, front lot. Sounded simple enough. I hung up, rolling my eyes and grinned. Looks like I had plans for tomorrow.


	4. Fire at Will

Chapter 3: Fire at will

I wasn't much for driving. I knew how to but I often decided against it when I could ride the bus or walk instead. Seeing as Sips Co. wasn't far from where I currently lived, I decided it would be nice to walk. The weather was nice, sky blue and clouds fluffy. Walking through town, it felt like walking in one of those little towns you see in movies before all the action sequences take place. Small shops, quiet people, few cars, overall just the perfect peaceful little town in the middle of nowhere. Take away the towering Sips Co. building and it would be the world's most scenic place in the world.

Wandering into the Sips Co. parking lot, it seemed oddly empty. I mean, there were a few cars parked and everything but it didn't seem as busy as it was yesterday. Nonetheless, a woman in red stood at the front, hands together in front of her and a fake smile across her face. She motioned for me to enter beside her. Walking in, it almost felt like I was about to be murdered.

"Am I late?" I commented, noticing no other person from the group the day before.

"No, no, no!" she quickly responded. "Private tours are always much better and organized. Each individual will be given a unique experience based on their interests."

"How do you know their interests?"

She didn't respond. The elevator doors opened, but I was the only one to enter. She leaned in and pushed one of the buttons. It definitely felt like I was going to be murdered. Her fake smiled remained as the doors slowly closed. She didn't say a word as to where I was going, why, and whether or not I was to expect another tour guide to greet me when I arrived on the floor. Riding up, I thought about yesterday and the man I had spoken to. How do he know about me?

"Miss Morgan!"

I didn't realize the doors had opened. Paul Sykes stood on the other side, smiling like a kid in a candy store. I wasn't sure why he was so excited, but I stepped out of the elevator and let the doors close behind me. We were on a fairly empty floor. It looked like it was under construction. Concrete floor, boarded up windows, faulty lights. I was going to be murdered.

"We're still working on this floor, sorry," he quickly apologized, leading me further into the room. "Weird place to start the tour, I know, but trust me it gets better from here."

I offered a smile, but still felt like I was getting killed. Easy to kill me here. No witnessed. No mess. It was kind of weird, thinking about my own murder but not actually thinking about why I was getting killed. Did this go back to yesterday and the man in the elevator? Paul turned to me, mouth open as if to speak but stopped. His eyes looked over my shoulder. Naturally, I turned around.

Just exiting the elevator was a man dressed in black. Face covered, hands gloved, he raised a gun. Murder. I felt my heart in my throat. Paul stepped forward, gently pushing me behind him. Now I was getting confused. Maybe I wasn't getting murdered but something else was happening.

"I'm not here for you, lady," the man assured, stepping away from the elevator. "Just him."

"What's happening?" I whispered.

"Just another attempt at information," shrugged Paul. "Happens from time to time. You get used to it."

"Used to it? The guys pointing a gun at us!"

"At me, not you," corrected Paul.

"Leave, lady!" ordered the man, motioning to the elevator with the gun.

"Okay," I blurted, darting for the elevator.

I could hear Paul chuckle lightly. I felt my heart racing as I stepped pass the man. I glanced at him, meeting his eyes. Blue. Enchanting blue. Somehow, meeting his eyes, I felt slightly more relaxed. Disarming. That's the word. I stopped in front of the elevator doors. They opened. Why wasn't I going in?

"Leave," repeated the man.

"Are you going to kill him?" I gulped, turning around. "You can't just kill a man for no reason."

"I have my reasons," he replied, digging into his pocket. "Yogscast. Isn't that what this is all about, Sykes?"

Paul shrugged.

"You still can't kill him," I mumbled.

The man pulled from his pocket a flash drive. It matched his outfit, black and nondescript. He tossed it on the floor in front of me. My heart was in my throat again.

"Everything you ever wanted to know about the Yogscast is on that drive," the man instructed. "Take it and leave."

I stared at the drive. For a moment, that's all that was there, me and the flash drive. Shutting my eyes, listening to my heart pound, I had the stupidest thought in the whole world. Opening my eyes again, looking up I saw the man addressing Paul again, gun pointed. I swallowed hard and charged forward, tackling the man. We hit the ground hard. I felt my palms scrape along the concrete, head hitting the chest of the black dressed man. Paul leaned forward, watching us on the floor.


	5. Welcome Mat

Chapter 4: Welcome Mat

"Ha! That's a first!"

I whimpered, sitting up and rubbing the back of my head. That wasn't the exact response I thought was going to happen. I was expected more of a gunshot sounding response but this sounded a lot better once it rounded my train of thought again. The man sat up, pulling the mask and hat he'd been wearing. He ruffled his hair, allowing it to freely flow without the constraints of the headwear.

"You…you're the man from…from yesterday….in the elevator…" I panted. It felt like I'd run into a brick wall.

"Pleasure," he hummed, offering a hand to shake. "Lewis Brindley, at your service."

I shook his hand, but still remain confused. Paul helped me to my feet, allowing me to dust myself off. My body hurt from hitting the pavement but probably less than this man, Lewis. He stood up, removing the black hoodie to reveal a striped shirt. Stepping over to one of the nearby construction boxes, he pulled out the jacket he had been wearing yesterday. Putting it on, he looked identical to yesterday.

"Every time we try this, people react differently, you know," he hummed. "I've had people stand between, some people have tried to shoot me and some people just flat out leave."

"I'm confused," I whimpered. "So confused."

Lewis stepped over to the fallen flash drive, putting it back into his pocket. He seemed remarkably in control, the way he walked and spoke. Even as skinny as a tooth pick, the man seemed completely in command of the room.

"Thanks again, Sjin," he chuckled. "I know you don't always like doing this."

"Sjin…" I whispered, looking over at Paul.

"This one was fun," he shrugged. "You haven't done the explanation yet."

"Huh? Oh, oh!" Lewis perked, ringing his hands. "Sorry, I haven't done this in a while and was a little taken back by your response. Nice tackle."

"Thanks?"

"This was a little test," Lewis instructed. "You've shown interest in the Yogscast, an interest lasting a few months now." He pulled a small notebook from his pocket. "Possible members, code names, locations, connections, history…quite expansive."

"How…how did you know that?" I stammered. "You were saying the same stuff yesterday. What the hell is happening?"

"You're being recruited," he spoke flatly, putting the notebook away. "This was a good example of your nature. It was close there in the beginning though."

"Recruitment…so this is…I'm…" I hated myself again.

"Follow me," he hummed, heading to the elevator. "See you tomorrow, Sjin!"

I stood in silence beside him in the elevator. He fixed the cuffs of his jacket. It felt like déjà vu. What was I supposed to say? Where were we going? Why was I, of all people, being recruited? What did that even mean?

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, so I'm just answer the ones we get the most often," Lewis smiled. "We're going for a drive. We'll talk some more a we drive around. Answer more questions." The elevator doors opened. "I know this is probably a little off putting."

"I just don't know what's going on, I guess. Who are you again?"

"Lewis, but perhaps you'd know me better as Xephos."

"Xephos?" I gulped.

He motioned for me to leave the elevator first. We walked across the lobby, exiting to find an old looking cab waiting for us. He opened the door for me. I don't know what I was thinking, going along with all of this. Any sane person would walk away. Guess I'm just not that smart. I entered the cab. Lewis rounded the car and entered on the other side. Closing the door, the cab took off.

"Recruitment is a little selective at times. We prefer educated individuals after all but we also like the inquisitive people. Luckily, you're both. You were considering things and collecting information along a different path than others. I was impressed. You even had certain codenames."

"I…I thought Xephos was a title, not a name," I mumbled.

"Oh?"

"I mean, the name Xephos goes back years and you…don't look that old," I blushed. I felt stupid.

"Thank you," he chuckled, popping his collar. "The modern Yogscast tries to keep its roots but history can only go so far before it's forgotten. Conspiracy theories, though, those have no time limits."

"What happens now?"

"Now, more testing," he shrugged. "While recruitment can be expansive at times, the people who actually get in is…less inclusive." His eyes seemed to narrow as he spoke. "Some people fake it. They expect a test or two and they can fake a smile and pass off a phony compassion. Our tests have become more…thorough."

The tension in the air was thick as we drove. I felt like I couldn't say anything without adding to the tension. It felt like hours, sitting there in silence, feeling the pressure of his words. There was still a chance of failing. I was so close to answers and still so far. Eventually, Lewis sighed, giving a slight chuckle.

"I really ruined the mood, huh?" he laughed. "This is why Honeydew usually comes with me. He really lightens the mood."

"Honeydew…" I smiled. My research had included him but was limited just like anything on Xephos. I was speaking to an enigma about another enigma. I could hardly believe me.

"Here," he handed me a slip of paper. "Address and time. You've got twenty-four hours to decide whether or not to show. After that, you're in for the long haul."

"This seems a little scripted," I chuckled. "I feel like this isn't possible expect in my wildest dreams."

"Well," he shrugged. "Tell me when you wake up."

The car stopped. Looking out the window, I saw my apartment. Guess it was time to rejoin reality. Lewis smiled as I exited. He even waved. It all felt fake, a dream. I shut the door and watched the cab drive away. What was I supposed to do now?

"Hey!"

I turned around and saw a man struggling with a box on the stairs. It looked like he was about to fall. Running over, I caught the other edge of the box just as he was collapsing. He gave a sigh of relief, peering around the box. Young, blond hair, blue eyes, slightly tanned. He smiled, looking up at the rest of the stairs. We should probably keep moving. Shambling up the stairs, we managed to move the box upstairs to the second floor, setting it outside the first door. Setting it down, we both laughed.

"Sorry about this," he chuckled. "I knew I should've asked a friend to help me move."

"You just moving in?" I felt stupid the second I said it.

"Yeah. Don't plan on staying long but figured I might as well rent the apartment than stay in a hotel. Just in case," he shrugged. "Don't suppose you want to help me finish up?"

"I got nothing better to do," I smiled. "Been a long day and it's not even noon."

"Sounds like a great morning then," he offered a hand. "Names Martyn."

"Dani," I shook his hand.

"Thanks for the help. I really appreciate it," he nodded, motioning back to the car. "I just got a few more boxes."

"What brings you here?"

"Work. I'm transferring right now so I'm kinda in between right now."

"Sounds good."

"I know right! I'm excited."

"I've got…a job opportunity but I'm just not sure about it," I mumbled. Right, reality.

"Is it exciting?"

"Yeah, I think but it's…a trial period. What if I don't do well?"

"You won't know if you don't try, right?"

I smiled. This was a nice feeling. A nice person, a random conversation. Better than the awkward conversation with…

"Hello!"

Mary.

She looked from a different time period, with her hair done up and lavished purple dress with green lace. She waved to us down by the car, leaning over the railing. Martyn and I gave an awkward wave in response. She trotted down the stairs.

"You must be new to the building!" she called, dusting off her dress. "I almost didn't hear you come in. I was working in my kitchen. Do you need any help?"

"Dani here is helping me out. I'm sure we can handle it," Martyn chuckled. "I'm Martyn."

"Mary," she giggled. "Aren't you a gentleman!"

"I kinda need to finish this," he mumbled, picking up another box from his trunk.

I grabbed a one as well. The two of us finished up fast, even sat for a small glass of water to talk about our recent move. He mentioned how he got his job by chance, having worked at a radio station beforehand. He made jokes about his radio voice, over exaggerating words and sentences. It was a nice distraction from the morning.


End file.
